The Season
by arthursdragon
Summary: AU: Arthur is a rich nobleman in 19th century England. He hasn't been to the season in three years, but his younger sister, Morgana is eligible to attend and she drags him along. She draws him in with the story of a rich and handsome nobleman who hasn't been in England for several years. His name, Merlin. Rated M for safety and later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**The Season**

**A/N: This is my first AU fic, so please review! **

"Arthur Pendragon. Get up this instant!"

The young noble lifted his head up from the pillows, a bottle of whisky still clutched in one hand. He squinted into the bright light. His head pounded like a war drum, and he felt like his bed was afloat on the ocean during a hurricane. The young man threw up on the floor, and let his head fall back onto his pillow. He was awakened again when his father threw open his door and rushed into the room.

"You've been drinking again?"

Arthur lazily looked up at his father's towering figure. "So what if I have?"

His father exhaled angrily. "It's no wonder you haven't found yourself a wife. You're a drunk, useless, disappointment of a son. But, unfortunately you're the only son I have. I won't let you ruin our family. Get up! It's three o'clock in the afternoon. You have the first event of the season tonight, and I'd better see you find a wife this year! You need to be tamed."

His father ripped the covers off of Arthur and left the room, yelling at their servants. Arthur got up slowly, and rang the bell. Then he collapsed in his leather chair. His valet appeared and, used to his employer's frequent bouts of drunkeness, closed the heavy curtains that hung over the windows.

"Thank you, Carter."

"Yes, sir. Will you be having breakfast?"

Arthur groaned, and Carter took that as a no. "Alright then, I've laid out your clothes."

He bowed and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Arthur laid back down, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pounding in his ears. He wasn't a useless drunk. He knew he had been messing around, getting into trouble, but he was young. He was entitled. He was rich... But truly in his heart, he was tired of the season. He had gone to the last three seasons, and been relentlessly hounded by fortune hunting mothers and their unbearable daughters. He hadn't met one girl that was really what he wanted. He'd never admit this to anyone, but he was a romantic at heart. He slowly got dressed, ignoring the loud pouding in his ears. He made his way down the stairs slowly, wincing at the creak of every step. He shielded his eyes from the sunlight and went into the salon, where his little sister resided, drinking her afternoon tea and doing needlepoint. Arthur walked by her and closed the curtains partway, blocking out some of the sun. She smiled and got up to embrace her brother. "Arthur! You finally decided to show up! Thank goodness, Papa was being so very disagreeable this morning."

Arthur smiled and kissed his sister on the forehead. "Good day to you too, Morgie."

"I told you! It's Morgana now. I'm old enough to go to the Season, I'm old enough to be called Morgana."

"Very well." Arthur flopped very indelicately into a chair, and took a biscuit from his sister's tray. She looked at him with eager anticipation. He frowned, his mouth full of biscuit. "What?"

'The Season is what! The first ball is tonight, and I need an escort, and chaperone. Will you come, Arthur? Please?"

He rolled his eyes. "Why do you even want to go? It'll will be nothing but lecherous old men, and penniless fools that will harass you at every turn. Not to mention the awful food, the hideous conversation and the... deplorable mothers." Arthur shuddered at the thought of previous Seasons. Morgana giggled. "Arthur, getting harassed by mothers is your job. My job will only be to converse with my friends, and to be admired by everyone around me." She smiled sweetly, with a sarcastic undertone. He scowled. "And which friends will you be "conversing" with?"

"Guinevere, and Morgause. Morgause has already been to two seasons, she knows how it works. Actually, I believe she is being courted by the Earl of Danford."

Arthur turned serious in a mocking way. "By Percival?! Good God, another one gone. It's a pity."

Morgana scowled. "Oh, shut up! Will you take me or not?"

Arthur sighed. "Fine."

Morgana threw her arms around Arthur's neck. "Thank you, Thank you, thank you!"

"Yes, yes, get off." Arthur gave his younger sister a half smile.

She returned to her seat, content with herself. "I heard there is going to be a man there who might replace you as the most sought after company."

Arthur snorted. "Morgie, we are one of the richest families in England, and I am close friends with all of the most influential young men that attend the season. I always have tons of girls surrounding me, and tons of friends."

"Not this year. He's the richest man in England next to the King. He is the Duke of Westchester."

Arthur sighed, feigning interest. "How much does he get per annum?"

"12,000." Morgana smiled satisfactorily.

Arthur sat bolt upright, and immediately regretted it. "Per annum! I only get 9,000!"

"Aww, poor Arthur, only vastly wealthy, not fabulously. Anyways, thats not the only reason he is so sought after."

Arthur was cross. "Please, enlighten me."

"From what Morgause has learned, he is a great horseman, pianist, he is the captain of a polo league, he can speak five languages, he is a great hunter, fencer, and cricket player and, best of all, he is known to have a rapier shart wit, and to be more charming and handsome than any man in England!"

"How do you remember all of these trivial details? If I didn't know better, I'd say you've known him for years by the amount of information... If he is so fantastic, why hasn't he attended any balls in the last three years?

"You're just jealous! Anyways, he's been on the continent."

"For three years?"

"Yes. He was touring France, Spain, and Italy."

"Why on Earth would he do that?"

"His parents are both dead, and he has a massive fortune. He had an ailing uncle who raised him after his parents died, and the old man's only wish was to go and see the continent. So they went. The old man just died, so rumor has it that Lord Westchester has returned to find himself a wife."

"How old is this Lord Westchester?" Arthur was in a temper now. He was rarely in the mood for Morgana's romantiscized versions of men that usually turned out to be snivelling, obnoxious, unbearable snobs.

"I believe he is 19 this month."

"How do you know all this?" Arthur gave his sister a inquisitive look.

She sighed, as though this wasn't the first time she had explained her sources.

"Morgause has a friend who has a friend whose ladiesmaid's brother is the valet to Lord Westchester."

Arthur was confused. "Oh."

"Well, never mind all of this. You'll still be in high demand."

Arthur rolled his eyes as he walked away. "Unfortunately."


	2. The Party

A/N: Sorry the chapter's so short! Longer ones will follow, I promise! Enjoy!

As Morgana and Arthur stepped out of the carriage, Morgana gasped. The building was aglow and brimming with noise and activity. Arthur straightened his cravat, and Morgana took his arm. They advanced into the building with grace, but she barely stayed still long enough tohave her wrap taken before running off to meet her friends. Arthur shook his head, and contnued into the room. It was glowing with hundreds of candles set into crystal chandeliers. There were rich purple velvet curtains resting against a light gold wallpaper. He saw the door to the women's salon closing, and smiled as the door opened to the men's smoking room, and cigar smoke wafted out. He looked into the mass of people. He immediately noticed, in the middle of the room, a young man was surrounded by women, their mothers, and some of his friends. Arthur recognized several of his friends in the adoring mass, including Gwaine, Earl of Hampshire, Lancelot, Earl of Southhampton, and his closest and most rational friend, Leon, the Marquess of Kent. He rolled his eyes. This must be the dashing and charming Duke of Westchester. Arthur advanced towards the middle of the mass, making his way to his friends. he saw the young Duke's back. There was wavy black hair that almost touched the high brim of his collar. He had a slim figure, and was wearing an obviously lavish coat and britches. Arthur frowned. He was intrigued. He reached his friends, who were waiting in line to talk to the Duke, obviously haven given up on fighting the gold-digging mothers and their awful daughters. Arthur laughed. "Good evening, boys."

They all turned and smiled. "Arthur!"

Gwaine slapped him on the back. "I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been hiding?"

Arthur smiled. "In the tavern mostly."

Leon laughed. "It's good to see you. Still the same old wild Arthur."

"You as well, old friend. Have you met the supposedly wonderful Duke?"

They all nodded.

"Yes, we did. He's actually a great chap."

How old is he?"

"Oh, he looks no more than 18. "

"And yet all the women flock to him?"

"He's rich, and actually quite charming."

Gwained laughed. "Leon fancies him I think."

Leon rolled his eyes. "I'm merely saying we should have locked down brides before he got here. He's a great fellow, but the women cease to flock around us, and I don't know about you, but I need a wife soon. I'm almost seven and twenty."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I think I'll see this Duke for myself. He pushed through the endless numbers of women and their mothers, trying to be as polite as possible. He cleared his throat loudly, gaining the attention of the young Duke. The young man turned around, and Arthur almost jumped. Thick raven hair fell across his forehead, and he had large blue eyes that glittered like sapphires. He was extremely attractive to Arthur. Arthur lost his thoughts for a moment.

"May I help you?"

The young man's voice was amused and kind. Arthur shivered briefly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Arthur Pendragon, Earl of Essex. I don't believe we've met."

The Duke smiled, revealing pearly white teeth. "No, I don't believe we have. Merlin Emrys, Duke of Westchester. I prefer Merlin."

They stood silent a moment. Arthur didn't know what to say. He finally spoke, his voice a little strained.

"I see you've been surrounded by a hoarde of women vying for your attention."

Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled, again dazzling Arthur with his perfect teeth. "It's just because I'm rich. The same happened to me on the continent, constantly harassed by women. Of course most of them didn't know I was rich..."

He shook his head, confused. Then dismissed the thought with a smile. Arthur was momentarily angry, the Duke so ignorant of his looks. He smiled back.

Merlin took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and thanked him.

"So, Lord Essex..."

"Please, just call me Arthur."

"Alright, Arthur. Tell me. How do you stand these dreadful parties?"

Arthur laughed. "This is the first I've been to in three years."

Merlin laughed. "I can't blame you."

A waltz started in the background and many of the young men started pairing with young women and going to the dance floor.

Merlin set down his drink. "I suppose we must dance, it was good to meet you, Arthur."

Arthur found himself disappointed. "Likewise."

Merlin walked away, his gait very elegant. Arthur sighed and approached one of Morgana's close friends, Guinevere. They began to dance and Arthur searched for Merlin. He found him finally in the throng of people, dancing with, oh, no. Morgana.


	3. The Outing

**Chapter 3**

Arthur didn't sleep at all well that night. He came down to breakfast in the morning in a foul mood. He didn't quite understand why. That Duke was so, so, charming, and handsome, and... he didn't know why he felt what he did, but he felt a strong attraction to Lord Westchester. He stalked into the dining room and threw himself down on a chair. He had barely paid attention, but now he looked up and saw the room was filled flowers. Every type of hothouse rose a noble could grow or buy was there. The stench was ghastly. Like his nostrils were being drenched in perfume. He looked over at his father, reading his morning paper and sipping at his tea. Morgana sat across from Arthur, staring at him eagerly.

He didn't want to hear her stories, but saw no forseeable escape. If he didn't hear them now, he would be forced to hear them later.

"Yes?"

"Oh, Arthur! Wasn't last night wonderful? I danced with Lord Westchester no less than five times! It was quite improper, but he was so dashing, and witty, and... perfect! Oh, Arthur! It was perfect! He sent me flowers this morning too. I think he could be the one!"

Arthur heard this with difficulty. He didn't know why this man meant so much. To any of them. He snapped.

"Morgana, for goodness sake! You've only just gone out into society! You don't know what you're talking about! The one! Please! There is no such thing. Stop being such a twit!"

Morgana was taken aback and started to tear up. She yelled at him, choking up, her voice breaking. "What do you know? Just because you haven't found love, don't try and ruin my hopes!" She threw her napkin down and ran from the room crying.

His father looked up from the paper, an annoyed look on his face. "What is all this commotion? Please, keep it down, I'm trying to read the news." He huffed and went back to his paper, unaware of anything that had transpired apart from the noise. Arthur gave his father an icy glare and wiped his mouth hurriedly with his napkin before throwing it down and leaving the table. He was on his way to the library when the family butler, Danforth, walked in, escorting none other than Merlin.

He stopped in his tracks, terrified and mesmerized by the sight of the alluring young man again. He opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin's silky voice cut him off.

"Arthur! I had forgotten you were Morgana's brother! I hope I'm not intruding?"

Arthur grit his teeth. "Not at all."

Merlin smiled. "Brilliant. I was rather hoping Lady Morgana would consent to a carriage ride? I just got the latest curricle and apparently anybody who's anybody has to go on an outing in them? I find no sense in it, but no matter. Do you think she would consent?"

Arthur forced a smile through his jealousy. "I rather think so. Danforth, go and fetch Lady Morgana, and tell her to dress for an outing."

Danforth nodded and bowed to both aristocrats before walking towards the great staircase.

Merlin stood in the foyer, smiling awkwardly.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Drink in the library?"

Merlin smiled and shrugged. "Why not?"

Arthur led him into the richly furnished room. Merlin looked around with great appreciation. "This is beautiful."

Arthur smiled. "Thank you. Is scotch alright?"

Merlin looked confused.

"Something wrong?"

"To be honest, I don't really drink alot. The odd glass of champagne is it. I'm sure you can't be too surprised, as everyone has informed me that I look like a boy of fourteen."

Arthur laughed. "Not at all. I pictured you as a raging drunk. "

Merlin laughed. "Yes, I'm sure."

Arthur handed the younger man a glass. Merlin looked at and took a small sip before coughing.

Arthur smirked. "Take it easy. It's just scotch."

Merlin cleared his throat. "Sorry."

They sat in silence a few moments, and just as Arthur had worked up the courage to speak to Merlin, the door opened and Morgana strode in.

"Ah, Lord Westchester," she sang merrily, curtsying. Merlin bowed with a bright smile. "I am so excited to see this new curricle of yours. Does it go very fast?"Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, to be honest, I'm not sure."

She waved away the question with the cheery flit of her hand. "No matter! I am still quuite eager."

Merlin smiled. "Well, we better be off then."

Morgana took the young man's offered arm adn turned round to Arthur.

"Do you have any conquests to ride with, Arthur?"

He tried to look casual, still sipping his drink.

"Not a one. And I prefer it that way. I'll see you later."

She shrugged and Merlin thanked him fro the drink before they left the house.

Arthur gulped the rest of his drink down and went to the window to watch them leave. Morgan had seated her self right up next to the Duke, and had take his arm. He out on his hat, and uged the horses forward with a gentle tap of the reigns. Arthur watched them ride away, Morgana's hand holding her bonnet to her head in the soft wind. Arthur snorted. Why should he care that his sister was going out with the Duke? It was simple, he didn't care. He sat down in a leather wingchair, and crossed his arms. He called on of his dogs over, and stroked the animal's fur absentmindedly. Why did he feel this way about a man he had just met? And who was a man? It made no sense, he had never been attracted to any man before. Merlin was different. There was something about him... Arthur laughed at himself, he sounded like one of the desperate girls who can't find a husband, always trying to pretend there's "something real" with every man she meets. Arthur banished the Duke from his mind and took it upon himself to go riding.

He saddled his horse, Apollo, and set about riding through the estate grounds, which covered at least a hundred acres. He felt free out here, calm. He had almost frogotten about the young Duke's glittering eyes when the young man himself appeared on a gorgeous white stallion.

"Merlin? Where is my sister? And your curricle?"

"I had my servant come and bring it back to my estate. I live only a mile and a half. I kept my horse, and when I saw you riding, I thought I might join you."

Arthur nodded.

Merlin wanted to start more conversation, but he didn't know how. Arthur looked in no mood for conversation. They rode silently. Arthur occasionally looked over at the Duke's pensive face, and wished he could speak to him and make that silky voice heard. He thought about that voice, and then those lips. How he would love to the feel those tantalizing, moist, perfect pink lips against his own. He slapped himself for thinking such absurd thoughts. Merlin looked over at him, concerned.

"Arthur? Are you alright?"

Arthur cursed himself for being so foolish. "Yes, I'm fine. There was a mosquito on my face. I'm fine, but I regret to say I must be returning home."

Then, without any further conversation, he urged his horse forward and galloped away. Merlin stopped his horse, and stared after the retreating figure of the handsome young Earl. His face fell. What had he done?

Merlin rode home to his estate, and gave his horse to the stable boy. He entered the vast house and went directly to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed. He thought about Arthur. His beautiful blue eyes, golden hair, and... he sighed. He knew he shouldn't feel this way. Not only was Arthur a man, but he was a man with a preferance for women. He had fallen for the young Earl almost as soon as their eyes had met. He had liked Morgana instantly as well, but not nearly as much as Arthur. When he had found out they were brother and sister, he was thrilled. He had reason to see Arthur again, without appearing to be over-eager in making an aquaintance. But he had acted an idiot with the older man, and he was disappointed but not surprised, to find that the Earl was cold and indifferent to him. He would never even gain the man's friendship it seemed. He laid back on the soft covers of the bed, and sighed. He wanted the unattainable.


End file.
